I've been known as an attorney who spent years in Big Law; a composer who trained at Juilliard and has been writing music since before she had the vocabulary for what a song was; a musician who fronts Vajra, a progressive metal band with a Top 40 single; a dancer who started moving at age three, trained at Alvin Ailey, performed in Bollywood films, taught Bollywood dance in India, and danced professionally with a Bhangra company. A yogi; a breath teacher; a meditation teacher. One who lived and studied in India, completing her Jivamukti yoga training there, and learned firsthand how breath, rhythm, and attention shape both performance and perception. A Reiki master, and one who cries at documentaries about octopuses.
For a long time I carried these lives in separate compartments; the legal mind here, the artist there, and the spiritual practitioner somewhere else entirely. I understood this as competence: the ability to show up fully in each room as whoever that room required.
What I understand now is that it was also a kind of fragmentation. And that fragmentation has a cost.
Electric Sutra is the room I built from all of it.
Its not a curated selection of the presentable parts, but all of it. It's the precision of legal argument and the surrender of improvised movement, breathwork, creation, and meditation. This understanding, which took me longer than I would like to admit, is that these were never separate strands. They were always one thread, expressing itself through different forms.
